


BEGINNING || ESCAPE

by costumejail



Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Brainwashing, FTM Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Minor Character Death, Misgendering, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Not Beta Read, One Shot, Sibling Love, Trans Character, Trans Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Trans Male Character, also one line and justice is served immediately, barely edited at all really, not intentional misgendering they just dont knwo that each other are trans, not named characters and one sentence so not graphic at all, reeducation you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23993866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costumejail/pseuds/costumejail
Summary: Party Poison and the Kobra Kid are two of BL/ind's most wanted terrorists, but how did they get there in the first place?
Relationships: Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730209
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	BEGINNING || ESCAPE

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the 'Zone Five Quarantine Fair' that @killjoynest is running on tumblr! Warnings are in the tags, there's kinda heavy stuff but nothing is too graphic or triggering I hope.

You don’t become a killjoy when you leave the city. Sure, the first sunburn, seeing the stars without squinting through the light pollution, the heavy way your tongue feels the first time you make a call on a radio, those make you  _ feel _ like a killjoy. But you’re a killjoy from the moment you look at the city and realize that  _ everyone has to get out _ . 

Party Poison is six when they become a killjoy, at the public execution of a gang of desert rebels their headphones slip and they clearly hear the cries of the supposed terrorists as they fall one by one. Their mother shushes them as they wail and they can’t help but think _this is wrong._ Even as young as they were, Party Poison starts to dream of what _should_ _be_ rather than what _is_. They chafe under the harsh lights and strict schedules of their school, their home, their life. Before they know it, they’ve got a following of friends and they’re quietly planning an escape from the city.

Party Poison’s thirteen the first time he tries to escape. Filled with the immortal confidence of idiotic teenagers, Poison and his crew don’t realize the flaws in their plan, the glaring holes that BL/ind can exploit, or the fact that their escape route is the same one every city kid tries to use. The plan goes wrong practically before it starts and Party Poison loses his entire crew, being spared as a living example of what happens when you break the law.

The Kobra Kid is eight when he becomes a killjoy, but ten before he realizes it. He wakes in the middle of the night to a living room filled with S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W’s and the announcement that his brother is being moved to a special school for a few months. Kobra’s too young to speak up but old enough to know that  _ this is wrong _ , that his brother would have bragged about the advancement for weeks, not vanished without a word. But Kobra has other things to worry about, insecure in his skin and flinching every time he’s called by a name that just doesn’t feel right. The months stretch by and Kobra nearly forgets about his brother until he returns, two years later and hardly recognizable. It’s then that Kobra remembers what he’d felt that night in the living room. And he starts to think about how he can make it right.

Four years pass, Kobra gets in fights at school, mixes with the ‘wrong’ crowds, gets a job in a Lobby restaurant and is promptly fired for breaking a patron’s cheekbone when he reaches under Kobra’s skirt. He spends a month in a hospital wing where they run all sorts of tests and push pills and IV’s and personalized headphone feeds and they do nothing to calm the itching under his skin. Kobra plans his escape from the city as if he won’t actually make it to the desert, so he figures  _ why not make some noise on the way out?  _

Meanwhile, Party Poison climbs the rungs of society like they’re being chased by hellfire. They make top grades in their classes, graduate on a fast track to a high-level government job and a nice apartment in the inner city. If anyone notices that their smile can be a bit tight sometimes, they cover it up with perfect BL/ind approved small talk. Their little sister scares them sometimes, staring them down across the dinner table as if she’s waiting for them to sprout horns, but she’s family. 

Kobra thinks about his brother and feels like he wants to break a window, wants to grab him and shake him and scream until he remembers what he’d been like before reeducation. Because that’s what it was. It took Kobra all of two weeks to realize that his brother had been brainwashed to a perfect BL/ind civilian, and then four years for him to snap them out of it.

At nineteen, Party Poison opens the door to the bathroom and takes in his sister staring into the mirror. She’s surrounded by chunks of hair, clenching a pair of nail clippers in her hand. Her eyes are red and she’s covered in bruises. They make eye contact through the mirror and Poison feels like he’s surfacing from an ice-cold bath. The screams of slaughtered rebels echo in Poison’s mind and he remembers that day when he was six, standing in the city square and feeling his childish sense of justice scream at him to do something.

They leave that afternoon, steal the family car and drive through the tunnels into the desert. Party Poison hides their little brother in the backseat and bluffs their way through the security checkpoint with a sweet smile and a flash of their ID badge. 

The city walls disappear behind them and as Kobra pops his head from under the blanket, grinning venomously, Party Poison lets out all the laughter they’ve been keeping down for thirteen years.

**Author's Note:**

> I think the only thing that might need to be cleared up is that my Party is five years older than Kobra, so they're nineteen and fourteen when they escape the city.  
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment or send me an ask @sleevesareforlosers on tumblr!


End file.
